I'm breathless, and I guess that's the idea of this piece. It's got to be the second longest sentence I've ever read, the first one being the last chapter of Joyce's "Ulysses." On the other hand it's a nice kaleidoscope, with an overlapping series of images, the way the days of the calendar used to fly by in old black and white movies.

The problem is none of them stick in my mind long enough to make an impression.

Sure would like to hear more from this writer ..._________________We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.
Ernest Hemingway